


Burn Bright

by ConstantWriter85



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bratty!Bucky, CEO!Bucky, CEO!Reader, Casual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy Angst, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-27 20:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30128286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantWriter85/pseuds/ConstantWriter85
Summary: You’re not looking for love, just a good time. Something casual. You know Bucky is not who he’s pretending to be, but neither are you. What starts off as a sinful game of cat and mouse slowly devolves into a battle of hearts, and someone’s bound to get hurt. But when the truth is aired and he says those three little words, is it enough to make you take a chance on love again, or will you run?
Relationships: Bucky Barnes x Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So here we go. This series is going to be heavy on the angst and the smut, a friends with benefits relationship that gets hot and heavy. These aren’t perfect characters, and this isn’t a perfect relationship, but there will be a happy ending. This is also an age gap fic (Reader is 40 and Bucky is 25), so keep that in mind if that’s not your cup of tea.
> 
> A/N/N: This idea is something I’ve been toying around with, there are so many age-gap fics where Bucky is the older one and Reader is the younger, I wanted to write the opposite. So, here we go. The title is from “Burn Bright” by the Heavy.

This is not your storybook romance. This is not your happily ever after.

This is just two people looking to have a good time. At least…that’s how it started.

And that’s exactly how it was, up until tonight.

You stared at the ceiling. At the sharp relief thrown by the contours of the spackle in the dim light from the window, at the blades of the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. Wishing you could rewind the clock and pretend the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Wishing you were as sound asleep as the man lying next to you.

Sleep would not find you tonight, though. The things that usually sent you right off to dreamland—the delicious ache in your limbs and your core, the heady scent of sex and sweat still fresh in the air—those were the things that were now keeping you up. All because of three little words.

Three little words.

_“I love you.”_

Murmured sleepily against your shoulder. Lips moving against your skin as he said them, long, sooty eyelashes fluttering closed over those ivory cheekbones. Breath settling out into deep slumber, and he was gone the next moment.

You’d both had a bit to drink that night. Not a lot, but maybe just enough to loosen the tongue. He probably wouldn’t even remember saying the words in the morning, but you knew he had meant them.

You should have seen this coming.

No. That wasn’t true. You _had_ seen it coming, you just didn’t do anything about it.

Stupid.

This isn’t what you wanted—love. You’d already had it, in every form. The whirlwind romance and the slow burn of friends to lovers. Two husbands, one in the ground and one you’d last seen from across a divorce attorney’s table. A trail of boyfriends, one more disappointing than the last. As the saying went, this was not your first rodeo, and you had learned long ago that love was just not for you.

It was all just a bunch of bullshit.

A soft mumble in your ear, and the arm around your middle tightened reflexively. Protective. Safe. Pulling you back into his chest, all warmth and soft skin as his breath fanned out across the back of your neck, and you died just a little bit more.

This was just supposed to be about sex. That was it, and that was all. That had been made perfectly clear from the get-go. No catching feelings, nothing long term. Just two people looking to have a good time with no strings attached—matters of the heart was never supposed to enter into the mix.

So why did it feel like yours was breaking?

You couldn’t do this anymore. Not now. Not after what had been said. Even you couldn’t ignore that. Yes, you loved him, but…you knew you could never be enough. Not for someone with his whole life ahead of him. You were damaged goods, and it was time for the dream to end.

Slowly, carefully so as not to wake him, you turned in his embrace. In sleep, he looked like an angel, so breathtakingly beautiful it made your own catch in your throat. Yet there was a touch of sin there as well. In the sly curl of his lips, those hands that had mapped every inch of your body. Those blue eyes, so changeable in their passion, eyes that could pin you breathless to the wall as he stripped away every last one of your defenses.

You didn’t want this. _Couldn’t_ want this—not with him, not with anyone. But despite your best efforts, the simple thread tying the two of you together had gotten horribly tangled, and to acknowledge the tangle there would only lead to heartbreak.

_You’re going to break his heart._

You silenced that voice inside, the voice that told you to stay. You knew where it came from, but listening to it had brought you nothing but pain. You weren’t going to listen to it now.

You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead, whispering your goodbye against his skin. Breathing in the scent of him, one last time, even as your eyes began to burn. It wasn’t his fault. You’d warned him, but in the end, his fresh-faced naiveté and youthful romanticism had one out. You should have known that a young man’s heart was no match for your battle-scarred one.

A note was hastily scrawled and pinned under his phone. It would hurt, you knew, but he would get over it. He was young.

Pulling on your dress and slipping your heels back on, you couldn’t help but look back at him. Vision suspiciously wavering as the tears gathered, and you angrily sniffed them back as you hardened your heart, and walked out the door.

You mashed the button for the elevator. What you needed now, was a drink. A big one. Maybe there was an afterparty you could still hit up, one to wash the bitter taste of love and disappointed youth from your mouth. 

Instead, as the elevator took you down to the lobby and your feet carried you out past the doorman, you found yourself hailing a cab home, the words of the note you’d left burnt in your mind.

_I’m sorry, James. I can’t do this anymore._

***

**Six months ago - Brooklyn**

The base was thumping in your veins as you sidled up to the bar, the lights so dim you could barely make out the drink in front of you. Muted blues and reds, designed to take the edge off reality along with the alcohol that was being poured.

It wasn’t quite a dive bar, but it was courting the edges of that term. Smooth and sultry. Dark corners teeming with life. It was still located in the better part of town, but it lacked the monochromatic pretentiousness of the usual locales. The deferential ass-kissing that went hand-in-hand with places like that.

You supposed that’s why you liked it. You could still get a halfway decent bourbon—or a glass of red if you were feeling particularly girly—but you didn’t have to put up with all the double-talk and the posturing.

Here, you could feel alive.

Sure, you were skirting the edge of the age gap at forty. But that was the point, right? You’d tried the other clubs, the corporate parties. Middle aged men talking about their portfolios and family prospects, eyeballing women like they were thoroughbreds being trot out before the race. Talk of good breeding. As the CEO of your own company, you brought more to the table than most, and honestly, that scene was tedious, and borderline revolting.

You had already buried one husband, and divorced another. You weren’t looking for love—you were looking for a good time. A diversion.

And maybe you’d found one.

“Ooh…hottie eyeballing you from the corner,” your friend Darcy observed.

Darcy Lewis, your business partner and wing-woman extraordinaire. A little bit younger than you, but what she lacked in years she certainly made up for with a red-hot libido and the talent for sniffing out studs like a bloodhound. You turned, and looked over towards the corner with a skeptical eye.

The moody brunette. You’d noticed him. He’d been watching you all night—or, rather, trying to look like he wasn’t watching you. Dark, European features. High cheekbones and a strong jawline, ending in a dimpled chin. Long fingers grasping the glass in front of him, and you watched casually as he brought it to his lips, the full, pouty curve there positively sinful. And kissable.

There were three— _three_ —girls hanging off of him. The brunette paid attention to them from time to time, little kisses and nips here and there, laughing at the things they said, even going so far to dance with one of them. Yet his eyes never seemed to stray far from you.

You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes in this light, but the intensity of his stare cut right through you. There was a little dance there, both of you watching the other but neither acknowledging it. You felt a low heat building slowly, a tightening of your core as all your sense heightened, but you’d been doing this dance for far too long to make the first move.

He was a fine specimen, to be sure, but he was going to have to work for it.

“Not bad,” you said.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He’s like, a serious ten. A fucking twelve! God! Look at that bone structure. I swear if he was looking at me I’d already be halfway naked.”

“Darcy, you are half naked.”

She looked down at her proudly displayed decolletage. “Details. Seriously, though—you should totally go over there. He’s been watching you all night.”

“Yeah, and if he wants some of this he’s gonna have to be a big boy and come over here to get it.”

“Playing hard to get, huh?”

“More like, I don’t want to waste my time on a momma’s boy with no balls.”

“You think he’s a momma’s boy?”

You snorted. “I can see the silver spoon from here. That outfit he’s wearing probably costs at least half a G, and I can tell by the way that he carries himself that he’s slumming. Those three girls are nothing but arm candy—bait to reel in the big fish.”

“He looks more like a lion stalking down his prey.”

“Well, I’m no gazelle.”

“Damn right! You’re a frickin’ cougar, baby. Just look at you. That body in that little black dress? With those heels? I’d totally hit that.”

“Jesus, Darcy.”

Darcy had a mouth on her, but you knew she was sincere. You’d worked damn hard to keep the figure you had, and you had zero problem showing it off in a place like this. Maybe it was how sexy you felt that night, maybe it was the drinks, but Darcy was starting to talk you into it.

“All I’m sayin’ is, you could use a good fuck,” she said. “Clean out the pipes, you know? What’s it been—a year since Mark?”

Your expression hardened at the mention of his name. “Ten months.”

“Exactly. We both know why you come here, ‘cause you’re tired of all those sad-sack suits that want to be the next one to the top of mount Y/N, if only to stake a claim to your money and your business prospects.” She pointed over at the brunette. “That one? He’s got money to spare. He’s hot and he’s interested, so do yourself a favor and just go for it. You’ve been talking a good game since we started comin’ here, hon, but I’ve yet to see you put out.”

“Darce, he’s almost half my age.”

“And that’s a bad thing? He’ll probably be able to go all night. Oh god, he just licked his lips—did you see that tongue? Imagine the things he could do with that…and those hands…”

“You are the absolute worst.”

“That’s why you love me.”

You stole another covert glance as you gestured to the bartender for a refill. James was now making out with a toothpick blond, but you saw his eyes flick to yours when he thought you weren’t looking. Trying to make you jealous, it would seem.

You scoffed. “If he’s gonna get in this skirt, he’s gonna have to do better than that. Pretty sure I invented that move.”

“Don’t be catty. You need this.”

“I do,” you sighed. “For once, I just want to get pounded into the mattress by some Adonis, no talk of market outlooks or portfolios, family names and summer homes in the Hamptons. For once, I just want to be just a woman, being fucked by a man.”

Darcy raised her glass. “I hear that. Not really, but, like, figuratively.” She stood unsteadily and smoothed down her dress. “Okay, I think I’ll make myself scarce. I see a couple of potential sevens lurking in the corner without dates.”

“Darcy—"

She kissed your cheek sloppily. “Ride ‘im like Seabiscuit, baby.”

And with that she was gone. You scanned the bar, but nobody—the brunette included—seemed to be paying attention to you.

Just as well. Darcy always had a way of hyping you up for these things. She was worried about you, you knew, the messy, terrible breakup with Mark having taken its blow to your ego and your self-esteem.

You pulled out your phone, setting up an Uber and cutting your losses. Smoothing down your little black dress and tossing back your drink, mentally already curled up at home with your cat and a Rom Com on Netflix. But just before you could hit the submit button, two drinks and a body settled into the seat vacated by Darcy.

Without looking up, you knew who it was.

The brunette.

Wordlessly, he slid the drink towards you, and you noticed it was the same thing you’d been drinking.

You raised your chin. “Are you lost, little boy?”

His eyes flashed at your words, telling you everything you needed to know. He smiled crookedly at you, and you tried not to watch as he bit his bottom lip. “No…I think I’m right where I need to be. I hate to see a pretty girl like you looking so lonely.”

“And what makes you think I’m lonely?”

He hummed, taking a long sip of his drink, his tongue flicking sensuously over his lips. “You’re here.”

Your eyes narrowed. “ _You’re_ here.”

“Yes, but you don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you.”

“Yet here we are.”

It wasn’t an admittance. It was a carefully executed dance step, a ploy to suck you in. A playful smirk flitted over your lips, and you took a measured sip of your drink. “Do I get the pleasure of your name?”

The brunette grinned. “It’s Bucky, and I’m glad it gives you…pleasure, doll.”

You stifled an eye roll. “Well…Bucky…thanks for the drink, but I’ve got an Uber waitin’ for me.”

“What’s the rush? I can give you a ride.”

He said it straight faced, taking a long sip of his drink as his eyes never left yours. They were the stormiest blue, with just a hint of grey, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

God, you wanted it. You wanted _him_. All six-foot, hundred and seventy pounds of him, lithe and cut and built like a freight train under those tailored jeans and designer shirt.

You bet he _could_ go all night.

From the corner, Darcy caught your eye. She was sitting in between two guys, giggling and flirting with them, but there was no mistaking the _“what the hell are you waiting for?”_ look.

So, you went for it.

“I’ll settle for a dance,” you said.

He huffed, lips twitching in an eager smirk as he led you out onto the dance floor. The initial volley had been traded, and it had come at a draw.

Bucky’s hands were on your hips, warm and guiding, his chest firm against your back as you swayed together. You felt his breath ghost against the shell of your ear and you ground your hips back into him, smirking at the soft curse that followed.

Clearly, that sparked something. His hands traveled teasingly up your waist before spinning you around into his chest. Lips brushing down your jawline with the barest whisper of contact, the heat of him soaking into your palms as you ran them up his front, locking them behind his neck. A little chuckle, feeling your body’s reaction as he grazed his teeth against your earlobe. Just a little tease. A little taste.

Oh, he was good.

But the real thrill came when you grazed your nails up the back of his neck, carding your fingers in his hair, and pulled.

Not too hard, but firm enough to let him know. Blue eyes blew black instantly, a breathy little gasp escaping his lips at the touch. Then you pushed your hips into his, tilting your chin a little closer, and he was gone.

There was nothing hesitant about that kiss. What started out as the soft press of lips quickly built into something needy and passionate, his lips parting immediately beneath yours. He nipped hungrily at your bottom lip, tasting you with a low moan as your fists tightened around his belt, drawing him closer.

You were both still moving with the beat, but it wasn’t until your back pressed against the wall that you realized you’d been slowly moving off the floor. Bucky stared at you, breathing heavily and looking positively wrecked. Already.

You were too, but you weren’t about to let him know it. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Isn’t that my line?” he grinned.

“Brat,” you scoffed. “I’ve got a room a few blocks down. You can come—or not. I don’t care which.”

“Do you want me to come?”

It was a terrible line, and you couldn’t help the snort as you bit your lip. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, I kinda heard it in my head as soon as I said it—not my best work.” Bucky made a face, scrunching up his nose as he did it. He was cute.

It was a little quieter where you were now, a little more intimate, and it was taking everything you had not to rip his clothes off right then and there. But, first things first.

“I gotta tell you, though— _Bucky_ —whatever this is, it doesn’t go past tonight. I’m not looking for anything long term.”

“Me neither doll.”

“Then we’re in agreeance.”

He laughed. “Sounds like a business proposition. You some kind of fancy lawyer or something?”

“Not quite.”

Bucky was studying you, and you suddenly wondered what it was he did for a living. He looked at home in his dark wash jeans and tight tee, a smooth button up open at the collar and revealing just enough of that sculpted chest to be mouthwatering. But as he watched you, you saw the glint of something in his eye you usually only saw in the boardroom, and you wondered what he would look like with his messy chestnut locks combed back and a three piece suit. Somehow, that didn’t seem far from wrong either.

Whatever. It didn’t matter what he did. _Bucky_ —if that was really his name, something which you sincerely doubted, would be out of your life tomorrow, leaving nothing but the memory of a great night and hopefully mind-blowing sex behind.

Bucky leaned a little closer, caging you in slightly. “So, if we do this, am I at least gonna get the pleasure of _your_ name? I mean, I already told you mine…”

The heat of him, the scent of him was doing things to you. Almost close enough to touch you, but not quite. Always the tease. Bucky sure knew how to work what the good lord had given him, but so did you.

Slowly you straightened, pushing off the wall and breathing a name into his ear, smirking at the way his breath hitched as your breasts accidentally grazed against his arm. It wasn’t your real name, of course, it was your middle name.

Bucky blinked rapidly as you stood, gathering your coat and purse. “Are you coming…Bucky?”

***

Bucky couldn’t keep his hands off her.

The entire cab ride over, in the elevator, fumbling at the door and trying to get the key into the slot—he didn’t think he’d even be able to make it to the room. She was just so sexy. So goddamn sexy, and she was driving him crazy.

It was like being caught in an undertow, his legs knocked out from under him, barely able to snatch a breath before he was dragged back under. Drowning in her, and loving every minute of it.

Bucky had always been something of a player, a different woman on his arm every night. Sometimes more than one. But this one, _this_ one was different. He could tell, the first moment he saw her.

She was confident. Put together. She knew the game and played it well. She knew how to handle her curves, and god, did she have them. Sinfully so. The way she walked in those heels, like she was born in them, the gentle sway of her rear enough to give any man a heart attack.

And the way she _looked_ at him. Like she wasn’t about to take his shit, just roll over and fawn all over him like the dames he was used to. No. She looked like she was used to being in charge. She looked like she was ready to devour him whole, and Bucky was one hundred percent ready for it.

Or so he thought.

Breathless scramblings, kicking the door shut behind him as he eagerly fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, his mouth never leaving hers. Finally ripping the offending garment off, he smoothed his hands up her waist, feeling for the zipper at the small of her back and starting to pull.

Then she laughed, a low and throaty sound as she caught his hands. “Easy tiger. It ain’t a race.”

Bucky’s mouth hung open slightly, her sultry words knocking the wind from him. She laughed again, and the nip she gave his jaw sent a rush of blood south. As if he couldn’t get any harder than he already was.

“Slow and steady wins the race, every time,” she murmured, slipping her hands beneath his tee. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” Her fingers brushed up his chest, nails raking lightly over his nipple.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

 _Jesus fucking Christ_. Bucky’s brain had momently frozen, and he shivered as she brushed his other nipple, demanding an answer.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Why don’t you let me take the lead for a bit, hmm?” She looked up at him through dark lashes, and Bucky decided right then and there he’d let her do whatever she wanted to him.

He nodded. She kissed him then, licking into his mouth intoxicatingly. Slowly, slowly, inching his shirt up and over his head, her hands leaving a trail of fire wherever she touched. He was painfully hard, straining at his jeans, and it took everything he had not to start fumbling for his belt buckle.

Instead, he followed her lead. Unzipping her dress in the slowest of strip-teases, slipping his hand beneath the zipper and grazing the lines of her lace panties and over the gentle curve of her ass. Bucky grinned, hearing her stifled moan, but the grin was wiped from his face a moment later when she palmed him through his jeans, and he almost came on the spot.

“Fuck, I want you,” he growled.

“All in good time.” She backed away slightly. “The jeans. Lose ‘em.”

In a second, the dress had fallen from her shoulders, and Bucky just stood there, staring dumbly at her. Looking like a goddess in a matching black lace bra and panties, still in her heels. She cleared her throat, perching daintily on the edge of the bed, just watching him. Bucky’s brain finally decided to work, and he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

Stripping in front of her was strangely erotic. Bucky had plenty of experience in the bedroom, but this was just so deliberate. So sensual. He felt his face flush, her eyes hungrily watching him as he eased his jeans down.

“Not those,” she said as he fingered the band of his boxer briefs. “Those are mine. Lay down.”

Bucky complied, heart hammering in his chest as she straddled him. She was very careful not to touch the erection that was straining at the fabric of his boxers, but when her breasts brushed heavily against his chest, he nearly choked on his own spit.

“You stop me if anything is too much for you, okay tiger?”

“I’m sure I can handle anything you throw at me, doll.” A little bit of that bravado back, and she smirked.

“A challenge…I like that. Okay, baby boy. Let’s see how long you last. No coming until I say.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed. He was about to say something, something teasing and bratty, but just then she bent and licked a stripe up his sternum, ending with a nip at his collarbone.

The words died in his throat. She moved across his skin, sharp little bites and soothing kitten licks, worshiping his body with her mouth. Down his throat and across his pulse point, making him moan as she teased the sensitive skin there with her teeth. His shoulders, his pecs, and when she lightly bit his nipple, soothing her tongue over the pebbled flesh, he groaned obscenely.

“Fuckin’ Christ—”

“Do you like that?”

“Yes…y-yes…more. I need…” He tried to arch up into her, to get some relief, but she shifted away. He gasped as she nipped him in the ribs.

“Not yet.”

It was almost too much. Precum was soaking thorough his boxers, his cock throbbing painfully in time with his thundering heartbeat. The unbearable heat sitting low in his belly, the need for her down there. She was taking him apart, piece by piece, and Bucky was starting to worry he was going to come untouched. He’d heard about such things, but he might just experience it firsthand.

_Well, two can play at this game._

She wasn’t holding him down. The only think keeping him motionless on the bed, save for his heaving chest, was the weight of her mouth, licking and kissing her way down his abs. Bucky trailed his fingers up her thigh, grinning as she shivered against his touch. Then, before she could stop him, they nimbly dipped beneath her panties.

Bucky moaned. She was soaked, straight through the lacy fabric. He lightly caressed her there, dipping a finger inside as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Do you like that, doll? You want it slow, right? You want me to take you apart with my fingers?” When she didn’t answer, he brushed his thumb lightly over her clit. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes.”

Lips bruising against his, and he chuckled as he cupped the back of her head, laying her gently back on the bed. “Now who’s the eager one, hmmm?”

Bucky took his time with her. He _liked_ this game. This wasn’t about scratching an itch, this was…this was an art. Bucky slowly stripped off her bra and panties, his breath catching at the sight of her. He slipped first one, then two fingers inside her, finding that sweet little spot and working it as his thumb massaged her clit.

She whimpered as he kissed down her chest. Taking her breast in his mouth and rolling his tongue over her hardened nipple. Her skin was like butter, long, lean muscles coiled tensely beneath, the scent of her intoxicating. He brought her to the edge, rutting against her hip to take the edge off. She made the most delicious sounds, and he wanted to savor every one of them. He wanted to make her body sing.

Right before she was about to tumble over the edge, he stopped, grinning at her wickedly.

“Not until I say you can come, doll.”

She narrowed her eyes. _Touché_ , they said.

Bucky rolled over and grabbed a condom from the side table. He tried to keep up the cocky, suave act, but inside he was a quivering mess, nearly dizzy with lust and need. She took it from him, doe eyes staring up at him as she rolled it on with practiced ease. Even then, she barely touched him there, and Bucky growled in frustration.

He flipped her back onto the bed. Pinning her down as she arched up into him, his mouth meeting hers in a bruising kiss as he lined up and pushed inside with one solid thrust. She gasped, eyes wide and swallowed with black as she squeezed against him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he huffed. Bucky had to pause a moment, the sensation of her around him overwhelming after going untouched for so long.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her words hit him hard. Looking up at him, her carefully cultivated mask slid aside, he could see she meant them. Bucky leaned down and tenderly kissed her, feeling strangely affectionate for this woman he barely knew, and was currently balls deep in.

“So are you.”

Then he began to move. It was sinful. It was exquisite. Bucky set a sharp pace, and she panted deliciously beneath him. He was almost there— _so close_ —when she suddenly hooked a leg around him, flipping him onto his back.

“Not yet.”

Bucky laughed, but choked a second later when she sank down on him again.

She rolled her hips, rocking against him, the motion teasingly slow. The fire began to build again, and she arched her back, groaning as he palmed her breasts.

On they went. A give and take, a push and pull. One position after another, a few Bucky had only read about, and a few he had never heard of. By the time they reached the end, with him slotted between her legs, Bucky was gasping for breath, arms trembling and dizzy from want.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she panted heavily in his ear.

“Come for me, Bucky.”

He snapped his hips, crying out as he came, his vision whiting out momentarily with the force of it. She came a moment later, clenching down on him as he continued to thrust erratically. Her mouth found his in the darkness, her breath shuddering against his lips as he finally collapsed on top of her, completely and utterly spent.

For a long while, he just held her, incapable of coherent thought. Bucky’s heart hammered as if he’d just run a marathon, his face and hands tingling as he looked at her. So beautiful, skin glistening in the soft glow from the neon lights outside the window, almost as if she was lit from within.

Bucky murmured her name, kissing the corner of her mouth softly. He was quite sure it wasn’t her real name, but that was okay. He hadn’t exactly been upfront with who he really was, either. After all, this was just for tonight.

His heart fell a little at the thought. Which was strange, especially for him. He didn’t have much time to think it over, though, exhaustion making his eyelids droop, even as she turned to kiss him again.

They lay like that a little while longer, trading soft, lazy kisses as sleep slowly claimed them both. And when she finally curled into his side, her breath evening out and deepening, Bucky pulled her a little bit closer, nuzzling her hair. Breathing her in, and cementing this moment forever in his mind.

Because in a few short hours when the dawn came, she would go her way, and he would go his. No attachments, nothing permanent. Just tonight. And that was okay, because he wasn’t looking for anything.

Certainly not love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: **18+** NSFW, Age Gap, Casual Sex, One Night Stands, Heavy Smut, Oral (Male receiving), Fluff, Language, Mention of Offscreen Death of a Father Figure
> 
> Series Warnings: *18+*, Heavy Smut (see individual chapters for specifics), Age Gap (Reader is 40, Bucky is 25), Language, Heavy Angst, Fluff

**Five months ago**

Darcy was waiting in your office when you arrived at work the next day. She was perched boldly on the edge of your desk, swinging her feet and sipping a ridiculously oversized latte.

“You better have one of those for me,” you said as you shrugged off your coat.

She started to hand the second cup to you, but pulled back at the last second, scanning you from head to toe. Her eyes went wide.

“Thank fucking god!”

“What?”

“I knew it! I knew he’d be the one.”

Alarmed, you looked down at yourself. Heels, slacks, and blouse, your favorite blazer. Not a thing out of place, not a single wrinkle. Nope. Nothing at all to suggest you’d just had the wildest sex you’d had in—

“About fucking time, Y/N.”

“Darcy, language.”

“Nope, I think this requires a ‘fucking.’ Especially since that’s what you were doing.”

You scowled and ducked into the ensuite bathroom, checking your face in the mirror. “What, is it written on my forehead, or something?”

“Nooo, you just look like a very satisfied woman. One who got fucked into the mattress. By a very capable looking male specimen, might I add.”

This time, you couldn’t stifle the grin. “Capable…that’s an understatement.”

“Yeah? Details, Y/N. I need details.”

You weren’t the type of person to kiss and tell, not even with a one night stand. And besides, you hadn’t even fully processed the evening yourself yet.

The sex had been mind blowing, yes, and Bucky had looked like a wet dream, coming apart like that. The little sounds he made, his kiss-swollen lips and barely a drop of blue left in those eyes blown black with want. His strength had surprised you, muscles ripcord taut beneath your hands as he held you, panting and needy and insistent. He played the game well, submissive and meek one moment, then taking charge, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you.

But then he had been soft and sweet. They way he’d looked at you, like you were something special and precious. The tender, sleepy little kisses, after, his body relaxed and warm…and comforting. It had been a long time since you’d been held like that, and an even longer time since you’d felt that safe with someone.

And he was a total stranger. How pathetic was that?

“Let’s just say we checked off quite a few items on my sex bucket list.” That was all you were going to say about last night, not until you’d had a chance to think about things.

“Um…a sex bucket list? What the hell is that?”

“You know, the things you’ve only read about and want to try.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Woah! One night and we’re already charting undiscovered territory—go moody guy!”

“His name’s Bucky.”

She scoffed. “No it’s not.”

“I know that,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s what he told me, though.”

“Who chooses ‘Bucky’ as a fake name? That sounds like a…well…I’m not sure what it sounds like, but it’s not very sexy. Definitely doesn’t match his whole ‘bad boy’ vibe.”

“I think it’s cute.” _I think he’s cute. Really cute._

Darcy was watching you with a little smirk on her face. “So…when are you seeing him again.”

“I’m not. I told you, it was just supposed to be a one night stand. He agreed, and this morning we parted ways.”

“You spent the whole night with him?”

You took a large gulp of your coffee to hide the way the question made you squirm. “Maybe…but we were just tired, and sorta fell asleep.”

“You cuddled. All night.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.” She gasped. “You like him. Like, like-like him.”

“Darcy, I don’t even know him. And it doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t have his number, neither of know each other’s real name. He was a good fuck, and yes, some mutual cuddling happened, but it’s over. Done with.”

“Okay, okay,” Darcy threw up her hands in surrender. “I thought getting railed by a sex god would make you less of a grouch, not more.” Despite her dramatics, you could see she was still smirking at you. “Okay, down to business, chickie. Pierce’s secretary called, he’d like a phone conference with you this week.”

“Already? I thought Barnes’ will was going to be tied up with the lawyers for at least another month.”

George Barnes had headed one of the best architectural firms in Brooklyn, up until his death three months ago. You had just signed a contract with him to design and build a new series of hotels in the area when he had passed away, stalling the project. It had been a huge contract for both of you, and you wanted to honor your end of the deal. So, you agreed to wait until the company officially passed to the hands of Barnes’ successor.

Darcy shrugged. “Apparently he got it sorted out. Guess who the new CEO is?”

“Pierce?” you winced. Pierce was a condescending asshole, and you vehemently hoped it wasn’t him.

“No. The son.”

“The international playboy?”

“Yeah. I guess they managed to drag him back from overseas—Russia, of all places. Pierce is handling things for now, but it looks like this is going to be the first contract _Junior_ is going to take on.”

You groaned. Great. A womanizing amateur. “I think I’d rather take Pierce. What’s _Junior’s_ name, anyway?”

“James. James Barnes. All of twenty-five years old, and still wet behind the ears.”

“Great.”

_Just great._

***

Two weeks later, you were just gathering up your things and preparing to leave when Darcy stuck her head in.

“Hey—you coming to Jane’s party tonight?”

“Shit, is that tonight?” you swore, pulling up your calendar on your phone.

“Um, yeah…and I reminded you about it twice. Please? You’ve got to come—you’ve been buried in work.”

“Not my fault _Junior_ Barnes is an incompetent child. Not to mention a bit pushy. I swear, everything has to be gone over fifteen times, every decision of mine is second guessed—I’m about to tear my hair out.”

“Then put it aside for tonight. Just come out with us, you need it. The party’s going to be huge—Thor went all out. You need to let loose.”

She was right. The high you’d been riding after your little fling with Bucky had lasted all of two days. The conference call with Pierce had just ratcheted everything back up again. He seemed very reluctant to let James handle anything. You’d never even gotten to speak to him—everything so far had been conducted through emails, which was infuriating, to say the least.

“Okay. Yes. I need this. Where is it, again?”

Darcy rolled her eyes and gave you the address.

“Great. I’ll be there.”

***

When Darcy said _all out_ , she meant it. Thor had rented out one of the hottest clubs in the city, and it was packed to capacity. Music thumping and the alcohol flowing, everyone dressed like they’d just walked off a magazine shoot. Which was actually very likely, given that Thor was a model.

You were flying. You _had_ been working too hard, and it felt good to just let loose with your friends again. The dress and heels Darcy had talked you into last moment did a lot to boost both your ego and your mood, as did the appreciative glances from a few of the men. A deep plum backless halter with a plunging vee in front, black stilettos—it was a bit racier that what you usually wore, but considering what everyone else was wearing, you fit right in.

Besides—if you got it, flaunt it. It wasn’t that you were actively looking for a hookup, but you wouldn’t say no to one, either.

The hours wore on, and you found yourself at the rooftop bar. It was sweltering inside, and you just needed to _breathe_ for a second. Too many sweaty bodies, too much noise.

You were sitting at the bar, looking out over the lights of the city, a glass of Pinot Noir in your hand and a small, satisfied little smile on your face. Soaking up a moment of calm before descending back down into the chaos. You were so lost in your own thoughts, that you didn’t even realize someone had sat down next to you.

“Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here.”

You froze, heart immediately kicking into overdrive. You knew that voice.

Bucky.

“Well, this is a surprise,” you said, taking a demure little sip of your wine and peering at him over the rim.

“A pleasant one, I hope.”

He looked like sex on two legs. Hair artfully rumpled and just the shadow of scruff on that jawline. A dark vee neck shirt, and you bit your lip seeing the light dusting of hair there and the fine silver chain that dipped enticingly beneath the collar. You already knew what lay beneath that shirt and those pants that almost looked painted on, and you squeezed your thighs together to stifle the urge to rip the clothes right off him, right then and there.

_Down, girl._

Bucky was checking you out as well, a pretty little flush gathering on his cheeks and down his throat as his eyes dropped from yours, down the plunging neckline of your dress and over your curves.

He gave a small little sigh. “I was going to go for suave and aloof, but I’ve gotta say, you look…stunning.”

You cocked an eyebrow, secretly preening. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mouthwatering,” he murmured, leaned a little closer, the warmth of his breath lightly brushing across your skin. “It is taking absolutely everything I have in me not to take you right now.”

You stood and smoothed a hand up his chest, smirking a little as he trembled like a live wire. You leaned down and whispered in his ear. “What’s stopping you?”

Pupils instantly dilating, and he gave a little shudder. His tongue darted out, a quick flick over those perfect, pink lips. “C’mon.”

Bucky grabbed you by the hand, gently but firmly tugging you towards the rooftop exit. His hands were just as you remembered them, soft and warm and strong, and you let out an uncharacteristic giggle of anticipation.

Bucky grinned back at you.

You were on the upper floor of the club now, and he ducked into a doorway that surprisingly led to a small little room with several comfortable looking couches. “How do you know about this place?”

“My friend Sam owns the club,” he explained, shoving one of the couches to the side. “It’s technically a storage room, but it’s where the store the extra couches from the VIP lounge when they want to change up the décor—”

“It’s perfect, stop talking.”

Now it was his turn to giggle, a low, sexy little sound that turned into a gasp as you grabbed the chain on his neck, pulling him close.

“God…I’d tease you…about being the eager one,” he panted, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he grinded _hard_ against your hips, “but I’d be lying if I…oh, fuck—”

Your hand was already down his pants, rubbing up and down his shaft, the tip already wet with precum. He bit at your lip, pulling it roughly between his teeth as he moaned. Fingers darted beneath the halter of your dress, brushing it aside to expose your breasts.

You gasped, head thrown back as Bucky worked his way down your neck, licking and biting as he teased your nipples. His thigh wedged itself between yours and you pushed up against him, riding his thigh and moaning at the pressure. Bucky’s cock twitched and jumped in your hand, hearing the little sounds you made as you got off on him.

You stroked him, brushing your thumb over the tip. Bucky gripped your arms, burying his face in your shoulder and making a high whiney sound like a teapot about to boil.

“You clean?” you asked.

“Y-Yes,” he stammered. “I just got tested. Why?”

“Because I don’t like the taste of rubber.”

Bucky watched you through half-lidded eyes as you got on your knees, pulling him out. His mouth fell open slightly when your lips parted, and your tongue laved over his head. You licked a long stripe up his shaft, tracing the thick vein there.

“Holy s-shit…”

Bucky’s head fell back against the wall with a thud as you took him in your mouth. He was gasping, trembling, barely even able to stand—giving blowjobs wasn’t normally your favorite thing to do, but after this you might have to seriously reconsider that. Watching him fall apart from this angle, feeling him throb in your mouth, the way his fingers desperately scrabbled at the wall, your shoulder and up your neck to pull at your hair…

Pushing a hand past the fly of his jeans, you gripped his ass, hard. You swallowed him back, and by the way his breath had started hitching, you knew he was close.

“W-Wait…wait,” he gasped. “C’mere.” He pulled you to your feet, lips bruising against yours. “I want you. I-I wanna feel you again—you drive me crazy.”

He was fumbling in his pocket, pulling out a condom without even breaking the kiss. Laughing, high and breathless against your lips as you straddled him.

You’d only had a single glass of wine that night, but you felt drunk. You _were_ drunk. On him. On the sight of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. The way he felt in your arms, and the way he filled you up as he pushed inside, his head falling back on the couch, almost in relief.

“God, you feel so…so good. So…so perfect.” Hands carded through his hair, gripping tight as you started to rock. “C’mon, doll…ride me.”

You moaned obscenely when he leaned back a bit, gripping your hips and thrusting hard against you. A high whine in the back of your throat as his hands shifted, and he rubbed a thumb mercilessly against your clit.

“B-Bucky…Bucky, I’m close,” you panted.

“I know doll, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“…please…”

Bucky continued to rock into you, matching his thrusts to the rocking of your hips. The coil tightened and you shook like a leaf in a high wind, clutching at his shoulders. Another brush of his thumb against your clit and the coil snapped, and you floated, untethered.

Bucky’s breath stuttered in your ear as he came seconds later, stifling a cry as you continued to clench down on him. A couple more erratic thrusts and he fell back taking you with him as you both crumpled on the couch in a sweaty, breathless heap.

You watched him as he came back to himself, eyes glassy and chest heaving. He looked so beautiful, so completely and utterly spent, and the look he gave you as you gently brushed back a lock of his hair melted you into a little puddle on the floor.

“That was…”

“…unexpected,” you finished.

He laughed. “I was going to say amazing, but yes. Unexpected. I was just happy to see you again, but this was…”

“Mind-blowing.”

He laughed again. You could get used to hearing that laugh.

“You’re too much.” He lay back, staring at you with a little smile on his face. It was a gentle smile. A good smile, like he was getting a little peek past the mask you wore, and he liked what he saw.

Bucky cupped your cheek, running his thumb across your cheekbone. The gesture was so tender, so loving, that you decided to take a chance.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot this week.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s been a shitty week, but every time I thought about you…and that night, I’d smile.”

There it was again, that smile. So big and bright it could stop your heart. “Me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Smiling. Thinking of you. And…other things.”

“Other things?”

Bucky winked. “Can I see your phone?”

You climbed off his lap and handed it to him, adjusting your dress as you sat on the couch next to him. Bucky pulled up your contacts list and added himself. He handed it to you and bit his lip.

“Now when you’re having a shitty day, I’m only a text…or a phone call away. Not pushing for anything, just…throwing you a lifeline.”

You smirked, and pecked away at your phone. Two seconds later, Bucky’s phone vibrated.

“Right back at’cha.”

Bucky caught your chin, pulling you in for another kiss. Finally, you pulled back. As much as you wanted a round two, Darcy was probably ready to send out a search party for you.

“I should go,” you whispered.

Only the hint of a pout there, but he recovered well.

“’Kay.” Bucky stood, helping you to your feet. “I’ll see you around, doll.” A saucy little wink over his shoulder, and he was gone.

A very exasperated Darcy met you at the downstairs bar.

“Where the hell were you—oh,” she gasped. “You just got a quickie, didn’t you.”

“Jesus, is it that obvious?”

“Well…”

You brushed at your skirt, irritated. “Don’t answer that.”

“Who was it? Anybody I know? Point him out—”

“It was Bucky.”

Her eyes went wide. “Like, the dude you banged two weeks ago? The dude who’s name is definitely not Bucky?”

“The very same.”

“He’s here?”

“Somewhere, I guess,” you shrugged.

Darcy was fixing you with a look, humming. You could tell you hadn’t heard the end of her interrogation. Then, she remembered something. “Oh! Totally different subject, but do you know who else was here tonight?”

“Besides half of Brooklyn?”

“James Barnes. _Junior_ himself.”

You frowned. “Why was he here?”

“I don’t know, everybody knows somebody here. Friends of friends of friends. I didn’t see him, Jane told me. She said he seemed nice enough, but he was kind of snobby and standoffish.”

You groaned. That sounded about right. “Look, I think I’m gonna head home. I don’t think the night could get much better than the last twenty minutes, and I really don’t want to ruin it by running into _Junior_ Barnes.”

“I hear that.” Darcy gave you a hug. “Text me when you get home, let me know you got back safe.”

“Will do.”

Later that night, after you had gotten home, kicked off your uncomfortable and shockingly expensive shoes, and exchanged your dress for a pair of leggings and an old college tee, you texted her.

After that, you texted Bucky. You hesitated a moment, before you finally typed--

_You: Glad I ran into you again tonight._

His reply was almost immediate.

_Bucky: Me too._

_Bucky: Been thinking about you, did you get home safe?_

_You: Yep. You?_

_Bucky: Leaving now. Currently pouring my friend Clint into a cab._

_You: LOL. Good luck with that._

_Bucky: I’d much rather be curled up on a couch with you._

_You: Actually, I’m curled up in bed._

_Bucky: Even better. Gives me something to dream about tonight._

You felt a little pool of warmth expand in your chest, imagining Bucky curled up, dreaming about you. Lips twitched in a crooked smile—dear god, this one was trouble.

_You: Sweet dreams, then, Bucky. I’ve got an early morning, so I’m going to say goodnight._

_Bucky: Goodnight, doll. Sleep well._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated, thank you for reading! This series will be updated every Wednesday
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @constantwriter85


End file.
